


Chance Meeting ~ Spike

by skargasm



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:23:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting changes everything......</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He learned very early on what it took to keep the boy happy. Not like he was complaining. Bang up introduction to Sunnydale to come across this one finishing off his parents. It was a good job he wasn't a particularly fastidious person cos the boy was a messy eater, no two ways about it.

Striding along through the residential areas, just getting the lay of the land, when he spotted two damned near luminous green eyes staring at him from near the ground. He let his curiosity drag him closer, shifting to game face so the pup knew right away he wasn't looking at prey.

The scent of blood had been thick and cloying in the air and the savagery of what the boy had done reminded him of his early days when he'd been freshly turned. It was all about gorging yourself, the thick hot blood pumping down your throat, the weakening struggles of your prey adding to the whole experience. Looked like the boy had been bathing in the blood – he was covered in it, heavy droplets falling from his chin and nose from where he had buried his face in the stomach of his hapless victim, tearing out the blood rich softness of vital organs so that he could feast.

That could well have been the end of it, curiosity assuaged except there was something – something about the thick untamed hair; the eyes that stopped glowing green but shone in the lamplight a warm enticing hazel; the broadness of shoulders not quite grown into. Again, that could have been it – a fleeting attraction, a nod to his 'type' of dark hair and dark eyes. But the boy had stopped and stared at him, sniffing the air before huffing in what could only be described as an appreciative tone. Had turned to the warmer of the two bodies lying broken at his feet and rummaged in the chest cavity. Before Spike could turn away, he found himself 'gifted' with a fat, still warm heart, blood oozing from torn veins, the sheer juiciness of the offering enough to make him blink hard. The boy had obviously been saving it until last, the final spoils, and with no hesitation, with only one look and a scenting, he was gifting it to _Spike_. 

It was a balm to the ego bruised by Dru's callous abandonment, a tribute he found himself accepting with next to no thought. He'd lifted the trophy above his head and squeezed until it was raining blood, making no attempt to be clean and tidy as it splattered his face and neck, running down his throat in thick globules.

He'd dragged the boy close to him, tearing off a chunk of the meat with his teeth before slamming their mouths together in a bloody, meaty kiss that got him hard enough to drill through steel. He'd loved the whimpers the boy made as he chased every morsel of the meat around Spike's mouth, blunt teeth chomping at Spike's lips as he ground his own erection into Spike's hip.

An overzealous bite and Spike had reared back and cracked him a good one across the face, a clear warning as to who was boss. He hadn't imagined the glowing eyed approval, the boy dropping to his knees, bloody hands pawing at Spike's belt as his head butted Spike's lower belly. Clumsy, unpractised but so fucking enthusiastic, the blow-job that followed sealed the boy's fate. Spike wasn't letting such devotion go.

Part of him still couldn't believe it had all happened out in the bloody street, albeit down the side of a house. The boy's house it turned out. After his inexperienced blow-job and coming over Spike's boots, he'd come back to himself. It was while they were showering off blood and gore together that he told Spike all about his useless parents and his trip to the zoo.

He'd also filled Spike in on the current slayer and her unorthodox methods of fighting, including having friends as backup. He'd been tempted to track her down and see if he could bag his third but the boy had whined and complained about wanting to get out of Sunnydale before the Watcher did something to take his new-found freedom away from him. And Spike decided he liked his new companion enough that he'd come back when the next slayer was called – there was _always_ another one.

Back to the de Soto and out of town before the sun came up. All he had to do to keep his boy happy was ensure a bit of violence was always to be had; hot blood and guts from assholes who picked on the less popular appealed the most for some reason; almost _constant_ sex as teenage hormones combined with demon stamina to make for a very horny boy; and last, but not least, affection. So weird that the one thing guaranteed to get him a lapful of loving, hot blooded demon were the very self-same casual gestures of affection he himself had often craved from Dru: a hand gripping the nape of the neck to hold him close for a possessive kiss; casual touches whenever the boy was near that clearly displayed ownership. And if sometimes Spike forgot or was _accidentally_ remiss in providing those touches? Well, then the boy went from malleable to demonic, stalking his prey until he could overpower Spike and demonstrate **his** ownership and no one but Spike needed to know just how much he liked that.....

* * *

fin

* * *


	2. Chance Meeting ~ Xander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance meeting changed everything - this time, from Xander's perspective...

Years

He'd been waiting years for this. Or so it felt. They couldn't ignore him any longer. No more would he be barely an afterthought in their minds. He had known from his early teens that he came way down on their list – definitely well after cigarettes and beer. He'd be prepared to swear that his father often completely forgot that he even _had_ a son.

Leaving Tori and the others at the school playing with the mascot, he'd actually considered going after Buffy. Considered it then dismissed it. When it came down to it, she didn't **see** him either – what did he want with someone who thought of him as weak backup? He knew he wanted to stay well away from Giles. It stood to reason that he would be looking into ways to take this away from Xander and he didn't want to let it go. This feeling of power. This feeling that people were _seeing_ him now. He almost laughed remembering the look on Willow's face when he had spoken to her earlier. No more looking at him as good old, reliable Xander – a little stupid but oh so loyal.

It had been a euphoric walk home. He wasn't scared of the things that went bump in the night. Why would he be? He **was** one of them now. He belonged. And the sights he had seen just on his way home – things that his weak human senses would have never even noticed. The night was alive with sights and sounds that exhilarated him. He meandered through streets that he normally avoided, avidly taking in the darker side of Sunnydale that up until now had been either hidden from him or a source of fear. No longer.

And such epic timing – by the time he made it to his own home, the parental units were just returning from a night out drinking, their clothes stinking of tobacco, booze and old sweat. He was almost merciful in how he dealt with his mother – he vaguely remembered what she had been like before she checked out of her maternal duties. A twist of his hands, a loud snap, and her shocked face was staring sightlessly up at him from the ground, only the weird tilt of her head showing her neck was broken.

He wasn't as merciful with his father. He'd ignored the all too familiar bellow as he pushed, shoved and buffeted the old man around. See how _he_ liked bouncing off a few walls as Xander casually stopped him from escaping. Cowardly bastard – he didn't stop to try to help his wife, degenerating quickly into bluster then begging. Oh so exhilarating when he stood in front of Xander, his big, fat face covered in snot and tears, piss leaking down his trouser leg as he finally **saw** his son. Too late.

Flesh surprisingly malleable and almost fragile as it parted easily to his clawed hands, the scent of blood swiftly overtaking the acrid aroma of urine as he easily ripped his father's stomach open. He'd finally given in to it's clarion call, licking his fingers almost delicately at first before the blood lust took over and he was gorging himself. So much blood – thick, luscious, delicious as it flowed down his throat, sticking to his skin, getting into his hair and eyes as he rubbed his face into the bloodied mass of his mother's abdomen.

He didn't know what managed to wrest his attention away from his orgy of blood, but he looked up and found himself staring at **him**. Lean, muscular, peroxide blond hair gleaming in the lamplight. Sharp cheekbones, cerulean blue eyes shifting to gold and Xander was lifting his head, scenting the air. And oh my God, the smell that came from him was divine. Faster than thought, he wanted him. Needed him.

They stared at each other and he knew the vampire _saw_ him and he wanted to give him something, a trophy, a gift. His father's heart was not the shriveled lump he had always imagined it to be and he held it out, hoping it was worthy. A sense of triumph as the vampire held it aloft and literally squeezed it dry, the blood raining down on his beautiful face. He watched hungrily as the vampire tore a chunk of flesh from the heart with his teeth, stumbling slightly as he was yanked close and his mouth was taken in a possessive kiss. 

Once more he lost himself in the taste of blood and meat but now with the added feast of vampire, the feel of lips popping beneath the pressure of his teeth before he was slammed hard across the face. So strong. So absolutely right. The ground hurt his knees as he dropped to the floor, obeying some instinct that said this was where he belonged. His fingers scrabbled with the unfamiliar belt buckle, the pop pop pop of the button fly loud in his ears before he could finally grab his prize. He could feel the firmness of a cotton covered belly pressing against his forehead as he lurched forward, awkwardly taking in the long column of flesh that pressed against his lips. He wanted to prove he was worthy, he wanted this vampire to want him as he desperately sucked and slurped. Delicate, furred balls in his hand, taste of cool, masculine, HIM in his mouth and his arousal reached boiling point. 

His left hand yanked at his own fly, releasing the painful pressure on his own erection but despite his arousal he couldn't go over, wasn't there. He needed – he needed something....

There. 

Long hard fingers pressing into the back of his neck, possessively holding him in place for the strong thrusts into his mouth and at the first spurt of cool wetness in his mouth he was lost, his own climax boiling over to splatter on the dark ground. He fell backwards, swiping his hand over his mouth as he looked up, so hopeful but not sure what he would see. 

If he had been enough. 

The smile that crossed the bloodied lean face looking down at him was wolfish and sexy, and he was unable to stop himself smiling back. He wanted to be the one to keep that smile there, to know he was responsible for making the vampire happy. Making **his** vampire happy. Whatever it took. 

“Well now that's out of the way, you got somewhere we can clean up pup? I haven't finished with you yet – not by a long way.” 

“Yeah?” His voice sounded rusty, his lips swollen, his throat sore. He realised that up until now not a word had been spoken between them – everything had been on instinct and had just felt right. Who needed anything else, any _one_ else when he could have this?

“Oh yeah. You and me Pet? We could have a lot of fun – you wanna come with ol' Spike? See the world maybe? Think I'm gonna like having you as mine.....” Oh yeah....


End file.
